


Triple Think

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-17
Updated: 2011-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-27 11:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie is missing.  Ray wants him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triple Think

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of the Tea & Swiss Roll amnesty challenge. The prompt words can be found here:  
> [T&SR Weekly Prompts](http://teaandswissroll.livejournal.com/445943.html#cutid1)

“This was a fine cock-up, Doyle.  Six months wasted… Six months we spent trying to bring down McGuire and his immoral revolution.  A campaign involving three of Her Majesty’s finest agencies... I trained you better than this!” Cowley was livid.

The object of his ire sat loosely sprawled in a chair across from Cowley’s desk.  No one in the room was taken in by his nonchalant pose. The shot glass of single malt shook slightly in his hands.

“Well man, what have you got to say for yourself?  Tell me why I shouldn’t suspend you.”

“Hardly wasted… sir,” the honorific added belatedly and with a hint of scorn.  The eyes continued to stare at the floor, “We know now that Bodie is still alive.”

Charlie had to admire his cool.  He wasn’t sure he’d stand up as well against the Controller’s sharp anger.

“You were taken like an amateur, Doyle.  How did you get caught up in the raid?”

Charlie silently applauded the old man’s technique.  Ray Doyle was famous for keeping things bottled up.  Getting him angry was the ticket to tricking him into talking.

“No one informed me of what was happening!” Doyle’s words were bitter.

Cowley removed his glasses and took in his agent’s belligerent profile.  The cuts on his arms and face had been stitched up, his bruises tended, his ribs taped.  The fine trembling was only visible now if one looked for it and was mostly due to exhaustion.  He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was appalled and shamed by what he was putting his agent through to complete this operation. _Maybe Ross had been right,_ he thought.  The CI5 psychiatrist had tried to keep Doyle out of this operation, convinced the man had a death wish after he’d thought he’d lost his partner to McGuire’s gang. 

There was an impenetrable sadness around Doyle.  He and his partner, Bodie, were close. 

It was more than losing a colleague, Doyle had lost a friend. Doyle didn’t allow many inside the walls he’d built around himself and that made the loss that much harder for him to bear.  It had taken months for Doyle to recover from his own wounds and then he had worked himself to near exhaustion to infiltrate McGuire’s cadre to find out what had happened to Bodie.  It had become personal.  Now that it had all fallen apart, he wondered if Doyle’s spirit would finally break.

“Ach, you’re no use to me now.  Go home and get some sleep.  Clean yourself up.  Report back in forty-eight hours.”

Doyle nodded but made no move to get up.  Quietly he said, “Am I still in the flat Bodie and I shared... before I went undercover.”

“Yes."  Cowley handed a key to Charlie.  “Drive him home.  Stay with him.  I’ll send Murphy with supplies.”

#

The ride to the flat was made in silence.  Charlie watched as Doyle tried to maintain a facade of boredom.  It was nearly midnight when they finally arrived.  The early evening snow had turned to rain and the path leading to the front door was wet and ice covered.  Charlie moved to help the injured man climb the steps but when Doyle flinched from his touch, he realised his mistake and took the rejection without a word.  No one touched Doyle, only Bodie.

Charlie led the way into the flat and aimed Doyle in the direction of the loo.

“Take a shower, Ray.  I’ll cook something. How about a cuppa?”

Ray grunted something that sounded like “Thanks” and the bathroom door closed.

Finally left alone, he began to shake.  As he stripped off shirt, jeans, socks and shoes, the sight of his naked reflection in the mirror brought back the fear he had buried during the last weeks of the assignment.  Not fear for himself, but fear that he’d lost his last chance to find out where Bodie was. 

He had been sure his cover was blown, but no one in McGuire’s group had moved against him.  Until yesterday, when his luck had finally run out.  McGuire had cornered him in the warehouse.  He had been badly beaten in the villains attempt to get a confession.  No bones had been broken, but the black and blue marks were now livid on his chest and shoulders.  He raised a hand to the deep red scratches circling his neck, made when they pulled off his silver chain.  He regretted its loss.  Bodie had given it to him as a birthday present.

He stepped into the shower and leaned against the tiles, angling the water so it massaged his sore back.  Tired as he was, his mind wouldn’t settle.  The collision of past and present conjured the echo of ghosts best left to rest.  He’d agreed to this undercover because at long last there had been news about how his partner had vanished.  McGuire was the common thread.  He had been a fool to hope.  His memory replayed his first meeting with Bodie; it had come just after another undercover operation involving McGuire. 

 

 _“MI6 is bringing Doyle in.”_

 _Agents crowded the hallway in front of Cowley’s office._

 _“Ray Doyle?” Bodie asked.  “Isn’t he one of ours?  What’s MI6 want with him?”_

 _“Doyle’s been undercover with McGuire’s gang for going on two years,” Charlie explained to the new CI5 man, “We just got word that MI6 crashed the party and Doyle got pinched in the take down.  The Cow will be furious!”_

 _“Two years?”_

 _“Yeah, Doyle is… well a different bugger.  He thrives on undercover work and is damn good at it.  Really throws himself into the role – becomes his cover assignment.”_

 _“Knew blokes like that in the service, nutters all.”_

 _“Doyle is a bit of that…”_

 _Noise from the direction of the lift drew their attention to four men walking towards the Controller’s office.  Three were easily identified as MI6.  No imagination, that crew, Bodie smirked to himself.  It was the fourth man that caught Bodie’s attention._

 _“That’s Ray Doyle, undercover wonder?”  Bodie had heard the gossip, some unbelievable, but he had yet to meet the man.  This lean, dishevelled figure clad in a leather jacket, red flannel shirt, tight jeans and handcuffs was not what he had pictured.  Even in his current condition, wounded and bloody, the man moved with grace.  While he may have been physically beaten, his attitude screamed defiance.  His eyes burned with a dark fever, challenging everyone around him, friend and foe alike._

 _Cowley stepped out of his office._

 _“Remove the restraints.”  An order, not a request._

 _“Not so fast.  This is a dangerous man.  We took him by the book…caught him with his hands dirty.”_

 _“Ach, Willis.  Stop.  You know Doyle is mine.  Let him go.  Now.”_

 _The man addressed as Willis nodded to his associate, and the cuffs were removed. Doyle didn’t acknowledge anyone.  He rolled strained shoulders and rubbed his raw wrists.   Free of the support of the MI6 agent he swayed.  Charlie grabbed hold of him to steady him._

 _“Easy,mate.”_

 _“Get him to medical, Charlie.” Another order._

 _Doyle looked up at Charlie and grinned.  “Good to see you again, Charlie.”_

 _Charlie smirked and enveloped Doyle in a hug._

 _“You too, mate.  It’s been a while.”_

 _Bodie watched, amused, as Doyle lay his head on Charlies’ shoulder and sighed.  He looked like a man finally allowed to come home._

 _Charlie gently shook him.  “C’mon, Ray, let’s get you settled.”_

 _Doyle stepped back and took in his surroundings, trying to regain his equilibrium._

 _Bodie, as a silent observer, finally got a good look at the bruised face.  Both eyes were blackened, but it was the pupils that drew Bodie’s scrutiny.  They were blown wide open.  Bodie then noticed the fine sheen of sweat covering the man’s exposed skin and the fine tremors that shook Doyle’s entire frame._

 _Charlie, understanding Bodie’s quickly hidden reaction, quietly shook his head. “Cover,” he mimed._

 _Doyle gestured at Bodie.  “Who’s this, then?  And when are he and his outfit due back in the window at Harrods?”_

 _“Ray,” Charlie stepped between the two men, feeling the air catch fire between them; it was something electric and almost visible.  He could tell that one of Ray’s less pleasant moods was coming on and he tried to deny him the opportunity to exercise it._

 _“This is Bodie.  He’s been on the A Squad for about six months.”_

 _“A poster boy for the next 007 picture…” Ray staggered and reached out for the nearest support.  It happened to be Bodie._

 _“C’mon Action Man,” Bodie laughed, “let’s get you to medical.”_

 _Ray pulled away and smiled.  The smile stunned Bodie.  It lit the entire battered face, from the creases around the full lips to the deep green eyes, making the man inexplicably beautiful._

 _Charlie saw that an explosion was no longer imminent, but there was something almost as volatile connecting the two men._

 _“Lead on, Mr. Bond,” the words trailing off as Ray’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the floor._

The water in the shower had turned cold and muscle-deep tremors racked his entire body.  His stomach clenched and he leaned over the toilet to vomit up the small meal he had eaten at HQ, and maybe yesterday’s meals as well.  When there was nothing left to come up, he sat back on his heels. His breathing was ragged and he was covered with cold sweat.  He reached for his bag and fumbled through its contents.  He sighed in relief when he found the bottle hidden at the bottom of the bag.  With unsteady hands he took a long pull.  He let the alcohol relax locked muscles.  He sank all the way to the floor and leaned against the door.  Another pull shattered the hold he had on his emotions and the tears fell.  He didn’t notice them.  He looked up at the ceiling.  _The mission might have been a bust, Bodie, but I got him… I got the fucking bastard…_

#

 

In the end, Ray decided he couldn’t hide in the bath forever.  Shaved and showered, he joined Charlie in the kitchen.

“I thought I heard Murphy,” he sat down at the table.

“Yeah, you just missed him.  Cowley called him in,” Charlie poured them both a mug of tea.

Ray looked around the flat he hadn’t lived in for six months.  Charlie watched as a shadow crossed Doyle’s face, and the man suddenly looked sick. 

“I’m knackered, mate, going to go to bed.” Doyle left the untouched tea on the table and listlessly disappeared into the bedroom. He didn’t turn on the lights. The rain had stopped and there was enough light from the moon to illuminate the room. He lay down in the silence, knowing that sleep would not come. He’d fought with insomnia ever since Bodie had gone missing. He yearned for sleep but feared the dreams it would bring. He shifted restlessly in the bed for what seemed hours, but a check of the clock showed him only forty-five minutes had passed.

He couldn’t just lie there any longer. He got out of bed and pulled on a robe. He reached under the bed and brought out a book. Climbing back under the duvet, he propped himself against the pillows and opened the cover of the memory album. He knew it was a mistake, but he needed Bodie tonight. He flipped through the pages, reliving the moments captured in the pictures and letters.

Here was the trip to Donington Park where they’d found the Quadrant.  Souvenirs from their first Valentine’s day, in the shape of paper hearts that Bodie had used to cover the bed were pasted on a page.  Who would have ever suspected him of being a closet romantic! 

Next up were the pictures from the trip to his mum’s at Easter; _that_ visit had the added complication brought on by his decision to tell his family he was bent.  They’d taken it rather well, but Bodie had been mortified; he’d wanted to keep it a secret.  His mum had laughed at Bodie’s discomfort, reassuring Bodie that he needn’t worry, no one would mistake him for the stereotypical poofter groom. There were pictures from Stuart’s retirement party.  Bodie kept pinching Cowley’s hat and gloves and the hangover from that party had lasted two days. 

There were sketches he’d done of Bodie on their anniversary trip to Spain.  He felt his eyes burn as he recalled that holiday.  He twisted the thin gold band he still wore.  Bodie had taken him to there to fish but they’d ended up on a beach near Barcelona and Bodie had given him the ring.  He had been stunned.  He hadn’t believed that Bodie had shared the deep feelings he himself had; he rather thought his love might be, well, not unrequited, but out of proportion to what Bodie felt for him.  Bodie had convinced him otherwise.  He still wore the ring.  While he gave no credence to superstitions, the ring gave him hope that Bodie would return.  To remove it was to tempt fate.

He winced at the memory of his own actions in trying to get Bodie to commit.  It had been after Julia.  His own festering jealousy had put their new relationship in jeopardy.  But Bodie had understood the insecurity and a kiss under a purloined sprig of mistletoe had set them right. 

He heard Charlie puttering around and was surprised to see it was dawn.  Pulling the robe closer around him, he slid the album back under the bed and went out to the kitchen.

“’Morning, Ray. Feast your eyes on this!” Charlie pulled an omelette out of the warmer and set it in front of Ray. Before they had a chance to tuck in, the telephone rang. Ray reached over to answer. Charlie watched Ray’s face pale and the look in his eyes harden. After a few quick “Yes, sirs” Ray hung up and was in motion.

“Get dressed.  They’ve found McGuire’s body... and there’s news of Bodie.”

#

“Where is he?”  Cowley was barely out of the Cortina before Ray was questioning him.

“Easy 4.5.  McGuire is dead.  It looks like he was a victim of his own cupidity.”

Cowley surveyed the graveyard where the body had been found tied to a fence.  “Rather an appropriate setting, no?”

Charlie came up behind the two men.  “This doesn’t look like an accident, does it?” his voice held a trace of amusement.

Cowley gave him a negative look.  “No, this was intentional, someone sending a message, or evening the score.”  He turned his gaze on Doyle.  Doyle met the stare without flinching.

“As you say, sir.  Someone assumed a guilty verdict and saved Her Majesty the time and trouble of a trial.” 

Ray turned at the sound of another vehicle arriving.  Murphy stepped out of a cargo van.

“Well?”  Cowley demanded impatiently.

“Just met the deadline, sir,” Murphy reported.  He moved around to the passenger side of the van and opened the door.  “They were just getting ready to board the ship when we arrived.  We had a bit of help from their reluctant passenger.”

Ray watched in disbelief as Bodie stepped out of the van.

“Hallo, Ray.” 

His lips moved without sound.  He couldn’t force any words out of his mouth.  His throat had closed up.  He just stood staring at the man he never expected to see again.

“Ray?”  Bodie sounded a bit worried.

“How...,” Ray walked up to Bodie and reached a hand towards Bodie’s face.  He pulled it back sharply. “I don’t understand...”

“Bodie has been undercover in Ireland, playing the other end of McGuire’s business. It was a deep cover operation with a need-to-know brief.” Cowley held up a hand in an effort to stop Doyle’s anger.

It was a wasted gesture.

“You bastard!  You let me believe Bodie had been a prisoner for all this time... let me imagine all kinds of horrible things... and you knew, all this time, you knew that he was okay...”

“Ray...”  Bodie grabbed his partner’s shoulder.

Ray shrugged him off and turned to face him.  “And you!  You didn’t even try to get some message out to me... to let me know you were all right...do you have any idea what I’ve been goin’ through?”  He turned back to Cowley.  “Why?” he demanded.

“It was not Bodie’s choice.  He was following orders.  If it’s any consolation, it was a last minute decision.  An unexpected opportunity dropped into our laps when you were taken in the raid.  One of Bodie’s contacts from his days in Belfast recognized him and vouched for him before McGuire could suspect him.  After the police raid, the men who hadn’t been arrested regrouped in Belfast.  Bodie went with them.  He was instrumental in setting up the final round-up of McGuire’s gang.  We couldn’t bring him out of cover until we knew what had become of McGuire himself.” Cowley looked pointedly at Doyle. “Something, I guess, we needn’t have worried about.”

“You and your damned triple think!”  Ray spun on his heels and stomped away from the group of agents.  Cowley nodded towards his retreating figure.  “Go after him 3.7.  Try to get him to see reason.”

Bodie snorted. “Ray... reason, not likely, sir.”

“Ah well, he’s got reason enough to be upset with us.  Take him home.  You can turn in your report tomorrow. Early.”

Bodie ran to catch up with Ray.  He had stalked off down a path through the woods surrounding the graveyard. 

“Ray, hold up”.

To Bodie’s surprise he did.  Bodie approached him hesitantly, and stood silently.  He tensed, waiting for the tirade, when Ray drew in a deep breath.  He staggered back in surprise when Ray’s arms wrapped around him in a tight hold.  Ray pressed his forehead against Bodie’s and whispered fiercely, “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”  He grabbed Bodie’s ears in his hands and tugged at them painfully. “Do you hear me?”  He shook Bodie’s head back and forth. “Never again.”  And then Bodie felt the anger drain out of the body pinning his.  Ray moved his lips over Bodie’s ear and whispered softly, “I missed you so fucking much you bloody bastard!” 

Bodie, stunned by this unexpected and generous forgiveness, tightened his arms around Ray.

  “Never again, sunshine.”


End file.
